


I'm Glad You Were Born

by mvernet



Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: Birthdays, Child Abandonment, Computer Hacking, Gift Fic, Guardianship of Child, Lost Tribes Of Uruguay, M/M, The Charruas, Uruguay - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 15:26:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16977150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mvernet/pseuds/mvernet
Summary: When Rhonda asks for Jim’s annual contribution to the office birthday fund, he realizes he doesn’t know Blair’s birthday.Takes place early-season three.A birthday gift fic for JKlog. Thank you for your encouragement, support and friendship, Chief.





	I'm Glad You Were Born

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JKlog](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JKlog/gifts).



~~~**~~~

Cascade, Washington, November 16, 1997

~~~**~~~

Jim was alone in the bullpen, trying to be proactive in catching up on reports before Simon could make good on this threat to cuff Jim to his desk until they were finished. Blair had been so busy with finals at school, Jim had to bite the bullet and do his own paperwork. At least Rhonda was around to distract him when he needed a break from typing. Which was often. Jim’s slow, hunt and peck efforts were nothing like the blur of frenzied typing fingers that was Sandburg’s style. Rhonda had been compiling the office birthday list and was now finished and ready to ask for contributions. Jim knew that look and reached for his wallet with an exaggerated sigh, just to tease the ever kind and efficient office manager.

“What are you collecting for this time, Rhonda, and how much lighter is my wallet gonna be?”

Rhonda shook her head giving Jim her special look of disdain, an effective weapon against tall, buff, recalcitrant cops, guaranteed to make them wilt. “It’s the birthday fund, Jim. Don’t give me a hard time. You like special birthday pastries and a funny card just like every other mook in this office. Pay whatever you can, but remember it’s for the whole year.”

Jim teased as he slowly opened his wallet. “Did you just call me a mook? This seems more like harassment than charity.”

“It’s neither. It’s called being nice to your co-workers. You should try that some time. Come on, those moths in that wallet need to see daylight once in a while.”

Jim chuckled at the old joke and took out a fifty. “Here, I’m covering Sandburg’s donation too. I know he’s low on funds ‘cause he just got his car back from the mechanic. Again. He won’t let me help pay for the repairs on that old jalopy. This way I’ve helped without him knowing.”

“So you do know how to be nice. At least when it comes to your partner. Blair always gives generously to everything and I feel bad since he doesn’t get paid. Thanks, Jim. I’ll write twenty five down for each of you.”

“You’re welcome.” Jim went back to his report. He was waiting for Blair to get to the office so they could go to lunch. Thinking about those delicious pastries Rhonda always ordered for birthdays was making him hungry. Thinking about lunch with Blair was making him hungry for other things. Like his best friend’s sunny smile. The way Blair’s lips pouted when Jim teased him. The way he would kiss that mouth and finally taste the essence of Blair in his fantasies. What he would do to his long-haired, witch doctor when he finally captured the wild man. Jim shook himself out of his daydream and took a deep breath, willing his little brain to behave.

Rhonda gave Jim a knowing smile as she walked back to her desk. Jim wondered how much the lovely blonde guessed about his secret crush on his beautiful partner. Rhonda always seemed to know everything that went on in Major Crimes. A moment later she called out, puzzled. “Jim? I don’t have Blair down on the birthday list. How can that be? Oh, no. I hope we haven’t missed his turn. When is his birthday?”

Jim turned in his chair and froze, mouth open. “I… I don’t know. How could I not know? I’ve known him for three years! He always makes a big deal out of my birthday.”

Rhonda tried to placate the obviously distressed detective under her care. “It must just be a typo. We must have celebrated it last year and his name was dropped from the new list. Funny, though, I don’t recall getting him a card. Maybe I accidentally copied our paid staff list and left him out. Let me call Vera in personnel and get his birth date. Don’t panic!”

Jim stood and started to pace in front of Rhonda’s desk. He hated the fact that he missed Blair’s birthday perhaps several times. It’s not like he had any deep seated disdain for celebrating them, he enjoyed them. Especially other people’s. Blair and Jim had just given Simon's son Darryl a generous gift card to a gaming store hidden inside a pair of horrible argyle socks that Blair picked out. It had earned them both a laugh and a hug from the teenager and his dad. 

Jim was even planning a trip to Storm Island to see his cousin Rucker on his birthday and introduce him to Blair. He was thinking of telling Blair his feelings in the naturally romantic setting of rocky beaches under the watch of a lighthouse, knowing Blair would appreciate the sentiment. If Jim Ellison was a Sentinel lighthouse, Blair Sandburg was his guiding light.

What bothered Jim the most about not knowing Blair’s date of birth, was the fact that he was pretty sure Blair had no one else who would remember it. Jim doubted even Naomi would drop everything and call her son on the day. Jim was the one who should know this about his friend. He was already thinking of ways to make it up to Blair and letting him know Jim was glad he was born.

Rhonda hung up the phone, the frown on her face looked out of place. “Vera says she doesn’t have the date, as a matter of fact she only just noticed that Blair’s personnel file was never completed and she’s very upset about it. She thinks it was an oversight because of the attack on Major Crimes by the Sunshine Patriots. Remember? That was Blair’s first day. Thank God. He saved our lives that day. He was so brave and he didn’t even know our names. Oh, Jim. How could we have overlooked him?”

Rhonda looked on the brink of tears and Jim felt like an ungrateful slug. “It’ll be okay, Rhonda. If we did miss his birthday, we’ll just be honest about it, apologize and give him a big belated birthday party to make up for it. I’ll even pay for it. Sandburg’s not one to hold a grudge. I’ll look up his driver’s license and get it from there.”

Rhonda smiled. “Okay. Yeah. We could give him a party at, The Hunt Club, on Pine Street? I went to my cousin’s wedding rehearsal dinner there and it was really nice. A fireplace and cozy tables plus a sports bar with woodfired pizza and a Ceasar salad for Blair. I can probably get a discount, and the whole crew will chip in I’m sure. Everyone loves Blair.”

Jim nodded in agreement. “What’s not to love? That sounds great, hon. We got this, don’t worry.”

It took a moment to bring up Blair’s licence on Jim’s computer. Jim shook his head at what he read. “Rhonda, DMV has a code where the birthdate should be. WAC260A. I’ve never come across that before.”

“Huh. I have seen a code before on a license, but if I recall correctly, it was for a foreign diplomat from Africa. I was told there probably wasn’t a birth record system available for his tribe.”

“Welcome to the Sandburg Zone, Rhonda. I guess we’ll need to look up that code and see what it means. Leave it to Sandburg…”

Blair bounced into the bullpen and dropped his heavy backpack on the floor next to Jim’s desk. “Leave it to Sandburg to do what? Jeezo Peezo, man. You got nothing better to do than sit around dissin’ me? Let me give you some of my workload.” Blair plopped into Joel’s chair and swiveled to take in Rhonda and Jim. Blair looked drawn and exhausted, but a beauteous, playful smile graced his face.

Rhonda and Jim exchanged concerned looks and Rhonda cleared her throat. “Actually, Blair, Jim was trying to help me out. I don’t have your birthday on my list. We were worried we missed it. When is it?”

Blair sat forward and scratched at his eyebrow, then played with his hair. “Thanks, uh, Rhonda, but I don’t, uh, celebrate it.”

Jim crossed his arms, knowing Blair was about to obfuscate an epic tale. “Chief. I knew it. You’re from the planet Ork like Mork and were hatched full grown from an egg, right? Explains a lot.”

“Ha-ha-ha. Funny, Jim.”

“Come on, Chief. Just tell the lovely lady your birthday. And what does this code WAC260A mean on your license?”

 

Blair stood and glanced at Jim’s computer screen. “What? You ran my DMV records? Are you investigating me, Detective?”

Rhonda came around her desk and gently touched Blair’s arm. “Blair. Jim was just helping me with my list. We wanted to make sure we remembered your birthday, dear. Nothing more sinister than that.”

Blair pulled out of her grasp and grabbed his backpack. “I can’t believe you guys! Just let it be! I don’t have a birthday. I don’t want one. Sometimes I wish I’d never been born!”

Blair ran out of the door before Jim could say a word. Jim followed Blair’s rapid heartbeat to the stairs, and breathed in the sweet scent of Blair mixed with the sour smell of fear and a hint of salt water tears, as it wafted through the bullpen on the disturbed air currents. “I’ve got him, Rhonda. I’ll call you later.” Jim grabbed his jacket and trotted after his upset partner, wondering what just happened.

Rhonda stood by Jim’s desk staring at the image of Blair’s driver’s license. She looked around to make sure the bullpen was empty. She sat down to begin her own background check on Blair, hoping she would find nothing untoward about her favorite charge. And if she did? 

Rhonda smirked as she addressed the smiling photo of Blair Sandburg on the screen. “You saved my life, Blair. Maybe I can save yours.”

Rhonda swiftly made her way through the maze of government files and codes usually used by traffic officers checking licences and registrations. She clicked on a Washington State legal form WAC260490069.

She read, “Birth certificate to be filed for foundling child. Blair is a foundling? This law is from the 1940’s. What does that even entail, nowadays?”

Rhonda continued her search growing more concerned as the facts unfolded.

~~~**~~~

Sands Hotel, Los Vegas, Nevada, New Years Eve, 1968

~~~**~~~

Jackie Kozinsky watched as Naomi Sandburg paused at the top of the main staircase of the Sands. Her long red hair was secured in a becoming topknot with jade hair pins adorning the upswept hairdo. She wore an evening gown of green silk, embroidered with small birds and orange blossoms. The sleeveless, high collared, Cheongsam-style dress hugged her enticing curves and left Jackie’s mouth dry. She began her descent and before Jackie could regain his composure, she was taking his arm and directing them towards the casino.

Naomi was having the night of her life. The casino was bright and festive, silver and gold. New Year’s decorations almost overwhelmed the usually glitz of the hotel. The surprisingly intimate, dinner in one of the high roller dining rooms was delicious as it was decedent. The stage show was excellent and amusing. Dancing followed and when midnight came around, Naomi kissed the wonderful man in her arms as the champagne flowed like water in the desert oasis. Later as they made love in the VIP suite, Naomi thought her life was perfection.

Jackie rose early on New Year’s Day, 1969, and ordered room service. As he waited for the subdued knock on the door, he watched Naomi sleep. Jackie wasn't vain. He knew he wasn’t an exceedingly handsome man, he was too short and furry, but he hoped he made up for it in the bedroom. Naomi was the most beautiful girl he had ever been with. Her spirit was just as beautiful as her blithe body. Breakfast arrived and Jackie tipped the waiter generously earning a smile and a little extra care in the setting up of the food. In the secluded bedroom, Naomi stretched and opened her eyes. 

“Oooo, Jackie, sweetie. I smell coffee. You are so good to me.”

Jackie smiled and handed her the robe she had discarded last night. “You deserve it, baby. You deserve every good thing in the world.”

Naomi slipped out of bed and into the satin robe. She smoothed her hair that had long since given up its fancy, wavy style for her usual hippie straightness. She sat at the elegant table as Jackie poured the coffee and Naomi reached for the sugar. Jackie took her hand and kissed it. She smiled as Jackie let go so she could fix her coffee. His heart ached at how sweet she looked with early morning innocence in her sleepy eyes.

“Naomi, I have something to tell you and it won’t be easy. First I want to say that this last month with you has been the best of my life. I will treasure it always.”

Naomi sipped her coffee and manged not to react or show her disappointment. “Oh, I see. Happy New Year, out with the old, huh? If you’re expecting a scene, don’t worry. I am very fond of you, it's been fun, but I’m not the type to settle down.”

Jackie frowned. He hated hurting Naomi. “No, Naomi. It really isn’t you. You see, I work for the mob. I am an accountant like I told you, and I do handle wealthy clients. That is where my money comes from. But where my clients get their money? Well, let’s say I practice a lot of creative bookkeeping.”

“Jackie. What are you saying? You don’t want me involved? It’s a little late for that.”

“I know, baby. I’m in over my head and you… you make me feel like a good man. I needed to feel like a good man again. I’m sorry I can’t stay with you. I’m going to South America. I’m wealthy, baby. And I’ve arranged for you to be well taken care of. Naomi for what it’s worth, I do love you. I don’t think I could do what I have to do if I never met you.”

“The mob. They want to kill you, don’t they.”

“Not quite yet. I have a small window of time to get out of Dodge. You see they want me to take out one of my clients. I never signed up to be a murderer. My morals are tarnished, and I sold my soul for the almighty dollar, but I couldn’t take a man’s life.”

Naomi grabbed Jackie’s hand. “Sweetie. Do you have a good plan? Will you be safe?”

Jackie chuckled. “Oh, yes. An excellent plan. I’m going to join a monastery. I’m going to run a mission in Uruguay. I have a dear friend who wants to save me and my soul. I know it sounds insane, but I think I have a spiritual calling, if God will have me, I’m going to do my best to be the good man I see in your eyes.”

Naomi shook her head and leaned back, hiding her tears with her wit. “So. I’ve been sleeping with a monk? That’s a new one for me. Jackie, you say you’ll be starting a mission?”

“Yes. It’s an urban mission. In the heart of the capital city of Montevideo. I grew up in LA’s inner city and I speak some spanish. I’m no stranger to going hungry in a city full of abundance and needing a little help up. I’m hoping the mission work won’t be that much different from the way I was raised.”

Naomi suddenly stood up and started to pace. Jackie looked on anxiously. “Jackie, I want to come with you. I love to travel and explore new places and cultures. I already considered the Peace Corps, but it was a little too military for me. I won’t hinder you and maybe I can help.”

Jackie went to her and held her close. He kissed her cheek as her head rested on his shoulder. “Naomi, my friend, Brother Jeremy, is coming with me. His order resides in Saint Sebastian's Monastery in Washington State, and they are sponsoring the mission. He will be with me for a while to set things up. Brother Jeremy’s taking a huge chance on me and I’m sincere in taking the vows of his order. Celibacy being one of them. When I leave this hotel, I will be Brother Marcus. I’m leaving everything behind.”

Naomi nodded in understanding. “I think that’s the most selfless thing I’ve ever heard. I understand, and I still want to come with you. I can leave at any time if things don’t work out, I have my passport ready, and it might ease your transition. Jackie, I’m sincere. I feel like I’m meant to go to Uruguay with you.”

Jackie sighed. “I’ll ask Brother Jeremy.”

~~~**~~~

Four months had passed and it was nearing the time for Naomi and Brother Jeremy to leave Brother Marcus and his mission behind. Things were going well, Naomi was giving English lessons to the neighborhood kids and the Brothers were making themselves known as humble servants willing to do whatever the neighborhood needed. They became known as seekers of truth and collectors of local history and culture. They lent the mission to groups interested in exploring their Charrua roots. They had many local volunteers, and enlisted anthropology students from University of the Republic at Montevideo to help, while writing various papers on the lost tribes of Uruguay.

All three Americans were fascinated by the story of the Charruas, Uruguay's first nation. The Charruas were nomadic, living on the plains north of Montevideo. Their tragic history lives in the hearts of the Uruguay people. They fought fiercely for their right to live, but were exterminated in 1831 by an army raised by local ranchers. The battle was called, _Salsipuedes,_ meaning, ‘get out if you can.’ But some believe the descendants still exist, tidbits of culture, language and myth handed down from grandparents to their grandchildren. There was a heated debate about what makes a tribe, and those whose grandparents called themselves Charruas fought hard to be recognized in modern society as more than ghosts of the past. Most Uruguay people still believed in the _garra Charruas,_ the strength of the warrior within them.

One fateful day in spring, a baby boy was laid at the doorstep of the mission. A note said that the child was named Tacuabe, and was the descendant of a great Charrua Shaman and Chieftain. He had Charrua blood on his mother’s side. The sorrowful epistle explained that the child was born with white skin and blue eyes like his long gone father and would have a better life than what she could give him, if the kind Brothers would find him a home. The note requested that the boy should be told his heritage when old enough to understand the ways of the world. 

Brother Jeremy made some discrete inquiries into who the baby’s mother might be, but no one knew or wanted to get a young girl in trouble. He debated calling in the police, and handing the child over to child services and foster care. The baby was beautiful and good-natured, and anyone would be blessed to raise him. But Brother Jeremy didn’t want Brother Marcus and the mission to come to the attention of the local police so soon.

Naomi fell in love with the boy. She never dreamed of being a wife and having a traditional home with two children and was fanatical about taking her birth control pills. But holding Tacuabe in her arms filled her heart with joy and her spirit with a sense of rightness.

“Brother Marcus, I want to keep him. I want to be his guardian. I feel as if the universe wants me to raise this child. It breaks my heart to think of him torn away from me. I wish I could just take him to the states with me and say he is mine.”

Brother Marcus admired the beautiful sight of Naomi with an angelic baby sleeping peacefully on her shoulder as she absently rocked back and forth humming a lullaby. She looked to him like the Madonna and child pictured in those old stain glass windows at Saint Sebastian's. He wanted to take her in his arms again, kiss her, marry her and have a perfect, ready-made family. He shook his head. That wasn’t good for either of them. The words of his vow to God burned in his chest. He couldn’t give Naomi his heart, but he could give Naomi this. She still didn’t realize how wealthy she was. Marcus had left her all his worldly possessions upon entering the brotherhood.

“Naomi, are you sure? Because there may be a way. I need to talk to Brother Jeremy and make some inquiries. It may not be legal, baby.”

“I’m sure. This was meant to be. I know it. I’m willing to do anything to keep this child.”

~~~**~~~

Cascade, Washington, November 16, 1997

~~~**~~~

Jim drove with lights and siren on. He knew he had to get to Blair before he did something really stupid. Like hurt himself or disappear without a trace. Jim drove even faster at the thought. He arrived home in record time and parked at a crazy angle in front of the Volvo, cutting off from any escape route. He’d deal with any cranky neighbors or annoyed traffic cops later. 

When he got to his lobby he hesitated at the elevator, but the adrenaline in his system urged him to take the stairs. He bounded up the three flights while zooming in on his guide. Jim heard the sounds of shuffling feet and slamming drawers and doors. He also heard the heartbreaking sounds of a pounding heart and the labored breath of his partner trying not to cry.

Jim’s own breath was labored as he entered the loft and called out, “Chief? What’s going on?”

Blair came out of his bedroom with a duffel bag, packed and ready to go, over his shoulder. Jim took three strides and stood in front of Blair. He took the bag from his shoulder and tossed it across the floor. “No! No, Blair. No running. You will tell me what is wrong and we will work it out together, partner.”

Blair looked up at Jim’s sincere face and lost whatever composure he had. Jim didn’t hesitate to open his arms and gather him in. Jim closed his eyes and breathed in the sweetness that was Blair. It made his senses sing even if the honey scent was tainted with grief and tears.

“Buddy. Whatever it is we’ll deal. Don’t ever run away from me. I know you inside and out. I’ll find you anywhere you try to hide.”

“You don’t know me at all, Jim. That’s the problem.”

Blair pulled away and started to pace. Jim stood frozen to the spot wondering if he should stop being a coward and tell Blair how much he meant to him. How much he loved him. Instead he decided to let Blair explain. “Then tell me about yourself. I want to know.”

Blair stopped pacing. His frantic red, rimmed eyes focused on Jim’s crystal blue, steady gaze. Blair seemed to sink into himself and he dropped onto the couch, hanging his head, his long hair curtaining his despair. Jim sat down next to him and placed a hand on Blair’s trembling leg.

“Tell me, Chief. I want to help.”

Blair took a few deep breaths and cleared his throat. He lifted his chin and turned slightly to face Jim.

“My name is Tacuabe. I am a son of the Charrua nation of Uruguay. My people are extinct, but my heart carries the _garra Charruas.”_

Jim’s eyes grew wide and a smile slowly lit up his face. “The strength of a warrior. I should have known.”

 

Blair frowned. “You’re smiling? You don’t seem surprised.”

“Incacha told me I would meet the last surviving warrior of a forgotten tribe. That he would be my guide. I’d forgotten that till now. At the time I thought he meant a travel guide to help me get out of the jungle. But he was talking about you. There must be more to this. Naomi?”

“Naomi isn’t my biological mother. She’s my guardian. The story starts when she was friends with Brother Marcus before he was Brother Marcus.”

“You mean when Jackie Kozinsky was in the mob? Naomi was his moll?”

“Not exactly. She thought he was just a rich accountant. He told her the truth just before he took orders and went into hiding in South America. She accompanied him and Brother Jeremy to a mission in Montevideo, Uruguay. I was left on their doorstep. I had white skin and blue eyes and my birth mother thought I would have a better life in the states. My father was a tourist just passing by. Nice, huh?”

“So, Naomi took you back with her?”

“Yeah. That’s why I have to be careful, Jim. Brother Marcus paid for a forged form from the American Embassy stating that Naomi Sandburg gave birth to me at the mission, making me an United States citizen. I’m really an illegal alien, Jim. I could be deported if anyone found out where I was born. But the Brothers didn’t want that hanging over my head. So, Brother Jeremy accompanied me and Naomi back to the states. Naomi took an apartment in Cascade and then traveled to Saint Sebastian’s. She left me on the doorstep for the Brothers to supposedly find again.”

Jim frowned.“You mean to be found in the United States, like you were born here?”

“Yeah, exactly. Brother Jeremy watched over me as the former Abbot called the police and reported a foundling. The police made a brief investigation, then sent over a public health nurse to sign the foundling forms. In Washington State, they put down the date you were found, estimate your age, and give you a name. This nurse put down Blair, for some reason I’ll never know. Then she wrote, foundling, across the page where it gives information about parents. Brother Jeremy watched as my fate was sealed. I was officially a US citizen.” 

“Brother Jeremy is an amazing man,” Jim observed.

“Clever too. It’s a good thing he’s a monk and not a criminal. Naomi was given guardianship a month later after a glowing report by Brother Jeremy about Naomi being a missionary with a heart of gold and a bank account balance to back it up. You see, when Jackie became Brother Marcus he gave all his money to Naomi. I don’t blame her for using it to raise me, but when I turned eighteen I refused to use any more of it.” 

Jim nodded, a feeling of pride for his friend growing swiftly in his chest. “That’s why you don’t like me helping you financially.”

“I know Brother Marcus says I shouldn’t worry about decisions made by adults on my behalf. He said no matter where the money came from it was being used for good now. He would have given it to the monastery if he never met Naomi. But after I became a man, spending it on myself didn't sit right with me.”

“But, Naomi raised you, right? Where did you go to school?”

“When I wasn’t traveling or living with Naomi, I was with the Brothers. They tutored me and took care of me when I was sick. I guess it was sort of like living in a boarding school in the 1800’s, like all those tragic heroes in Charles Dickens works. It suited Naomi’s lifestyle to leave me there. The Brothers loved me, in their way. I always felt safe, but it was surreal. It was like I was out of sync with the rest of the world. I’m not really as experienced as I let on.” 

Jim's heart clenched in his chest as he realized he didn't really know Blair. His assumptions and misconceptions fled from his heart as a fierce protectiveness took its place. He loved Blair even more, if that was possible and wanted to claim him and keep him close. Jim softened his tone. “Is that why you took me there on our vacation? Were you going to tell me about your past?”

Blair hung his head. “Yeah, but I chickened out. There was so much coming to light about Jackie Kozinsky, I was afraid the cops would find out about me too. Jim, it really hurt when I thought Brother Marcus was dead. He’s been a father figure to me.”

“I’m sorry, Chief. I think now, Marcus was trying to shield you. If I’d only known.”

“I know. It feels good to tell you the truth. I really hate living a lie and lying to you has been torture. I’m so proud to be Charrua. When I was old enough to understand and keep a secret, Naomi told me where I really came from and Brother Marcus had returned from Uruguay by then and started to teach me about my heritage. He told me all the stories he had heard about the Charruas. My favorite was about a Charruas boy who found a baby jaguar and raised it. The jaguar and the boy protected the tribe. I always dreamed that after I earned my doctorate, I would return to Uruguay and study the lost tribes. But my life took another path when I learned about Sentinels. I began to think that if I found a Sentinel, living in modern times, that somehow I could connect with the past and fulfill my destiny. Crazy, huh?”

“Chief, this story is incredible. But why did you feel you had to run from me. You keep my secret, didn’t you think I would keep yours?”

“You’re a cop! I work with cops. I knew someone eventually was going to dig around in my records out of curiosity and put Naomi, Brother Marcus and Brother Jeremy in danger of being arrested. I’m grateful now it was Rhonda, simply wanting to give me a birthday gift. I can deal with being deported. Eli Stoddard is the only other person who knows about my heritage. He was in Uruguay researching the Charruas. An old man in a nursing home, shared with him stories of the Charruas and told him the last warrior was left at the mission’s door years before. He spoke to Brother Marcus about it. Eli was relentless, I was his holy grail, the living embodiment of a lost tribe Finally, Brother Marcus caved because he could see a future for me with Eli. Marcus made him swear to look out for me and take me under his wing. Eli sponsored me and got me into Rainier at sixteen. When I was eighteen he took me to Uruguay to see where my ancestors lived. I know I would be happy there if I had to go back. He might be in trouble too, if anyone finds out he knew. I don’t know what to do, Jim. This is the first time it mattered to anyone if I was gone with the wind. It’s the first time I felt like I was leaving my home. It matters to me. Jim, I… I don’t want to go.”

Jim took Blair in his arms again. “Stay with me, Chief. We’ll work it out. We could get an immigration attorney to protect you, Naomi and the Brothers. Maybe Stephen or even my father could help. And I have still have contacts in the army. If the worst happens and you’re deported, I’ll come with you. Hell, I’ll marry you if I have to. It must be legal somewhere.”

Blair pulled away just enough to study Jim’s face. “What? You’ll… what?”

Jim sighed and pulled Blair close so that his curly haired head rested under Jim’s chin. “I love you, Tacuabe, my Chief. I won’t let you go. I want you to be in my life and my bed, forever.”

Blair pulled away again, but before he could speak, Jim kissed him to his reinforce his vow.

The kiss turned from chaste and hesitant to passionate in the blink of an eye. Blair took just a moment to whisper, “I love you, too,” before he pushed Jim gently down on the couch and straddled the blissed out cop, licking, kissing and stroking him, instinctively knowing what his Sentinel needed to fill all his senses, despite his inexperience. They finally came up for air when the phone rang. Blair laid his head down on Jim’s heaving chest and gloried in the warmth he found there. Jim petted Blair’s wild hair and tried to talk normally as Blair listened in.

//Ellison.//

//Hello, Jim. It’s Rhonda. Did you find Blair? Is he alright?//

//Oh, hi, hon. I found Blair at the loft. He's okay. I’m sorry I didn’t call.//

//That’s okay. I’m sure you had your hands full. Listen carefully, Jim. I know you’re especially good at listening, among other things. Tell Blair that Vera and I fixed that little glitch in his records. He’ll have a corrected license, passport and copy of his Washington State birth certificate with Naomi listed as his mother, in two weeks. Vera has all the corrected information in his new personal file. Oh, and his birthday is November 26th, 1969. I think Sagittarius suits him, don’t you? I can see him as an ancient warrior with his bow and arrow aimed at the sky. I already booked, The Hunt Club, for his birthday bash, so be there or be square. Gotta go, Simon just came in. Love you guys!//

Jim looked into Blair’s eyes that were wide with shock. “You get all that?”

“She knows, Jim. She knows about me and about you. She knows and she somehow fixed it. What did she do? Give me a new identity like an MIB agent or hack into the Pentagon’s computer?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if she did all that and more. I always suspected Rhonda and Vera actually ran the world. Never underestimate the superpowers of office managers.”

“Jim? It’s over? If Rhonda managed to change my records. Then Naomi, the Brothers and Eli are all safe.”

“Looks that way, Chief.”

“I... I can’t let Rhonda do this. Why do people keep putting themselves out there for me?”

Jim pulled Blair back to him and kissed the worry lines on his brow. “Chief, you give so much of yourself everyday. Rhonda wants to do this for you. She feels that she owes you her life. Let her. I promise I’ll talk to her and make sure she’s safe. No more running. You’re home and you have a family. The tribe you always wanted. We’ll take care of you.”

Blair turned his head and buried it in Jim’s strong arms. His tears fell for his lost tribe that would never know the love and pride he felt in his spirit.

Jim held him close and whispered, “I’m glad you were born, Tacuabe.”

**Author's Note:**

> The google research I did on the foundling law was for Washington State. My research on Uruguay’s lost tribes had several articles with debates about whether Charruas descendants can truly be called Charruas if the tribal language and customs have become extinct. I did not wish to be controversial, I simply wanted to write a birthday fic for a friend. I apologize for and will gladly retract anything information that is incorrect or that might be considered offensive.


End file.
